


Focus

by Esselle



Series: Breakdancing and Ballet [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, B-Boy Hinata, Ballet Dancer Kageyama, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Hinata used to tease Kageyama for the way he carried himself, both on and off the dance floor, used to call him stiff and serious, a robot. Kageyama had seemed to him, when they were younger, to be <i>too</i> serious—and dancing, Hinata had always felt, was something you could only truly love if you were having fun doing it.</p><p>He realizes now, obviously, that they love it both the same. They're just different.'</p><p>--</p><p>Hinata watches Kageyama move; dance; flow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this post](http://its-headcanon-time.tumblr.com/post/149385151662/so-this-isnt-a-headcanon-but-an-au-imagine) by [possibly-an-intellectual-being](https://tmblr.co/mRQyNjyjY4cqkUTYpaNvR2A) and [its-headcanon-time](https://tmblr.co/m9Yel4v2Yfy9z7c2lray9cw) on Tumblr!

The air conditioning in the studio is on full blast, but even that is almost not enough for Hinata, slumped with his back against the mirror, water bottle in imminent danger of being fully drained.

What does help is watching Kageyama whirl across the studio in a series of flawless piqué turns, corner to corner, ink dark hair fanning out around his face on every spin, posture from his toes and up his back and to the top of his head a long, straight line.

"Kageyama," Hinata calls out, "are you dizzy yet?"

Kageyama's focus doesn't break, but he does say, "No."

Hinata used to tease Kageyama for the way he carried himself, both on and off the dance floor, used to call him stiff and serious, a robot. Kageyama had seemed to him, when they were younger, to be _too_ serious—and dancing, Hinata had always felt, was something you could only truly love if you were having fun doing it.

He realizes now, obviously, that it's never not been fun for Kageyama. They love it both the same. They're just different.

Kageyama Tobio is the dark-haired, long-limbed, blue-eyed prodigy, a foot ( _en pointe,_ thanks) in the door since he first started dancing. He's graceful and poised, but those eyes, as his instructors always say, have a _fire,_ one that will serve him well in dance and in the business of making it big. And wherever he stands, center stage finds him.

Compare, contrast: the boy with no dance background, no family lineage, no technique, just love (and the handy ability to fly into a back spin). The flickering flame to Kageyama's steady burning, with a head of hair to match. Hinata Shouyou breaks down the door, that one that opens so easily for Kageyama, but he does it with a smile. His determination lays down the track, but it's his raw talent that keeps him in perpetual motion.

They've known each other since they were ten years old, met at the same dance studio, wanted to kill each other almost on sight. It took them a year to become friends, two years to become inseparable, five more to realize they were both idiots.

Hinata knows Kageyama still has the rose he gave him the night he confessed. It's dried and pressed and kept in the folds of the program from their last dance recital before they graduated high school, before Kageyama went off to London and the Royal Academy of Dance. Five years later and he still experiences some kind of apoplectic fit every time Hinata brings up the fact that he saved it, but he's never tossed the little red rosebud in the trash either, and they both know he probably never will.

Now, Hinata is happy to just watch Kageyama dance. He flops over onto the cool wood floor, grinning, knowing Kageyama can see him because he's spotting using Hinata as his focal point.

"How about now?" he asks. "Are you dizzy now?"

 _"Still_ no," Kageyama says, flatly.

His turns are measured and steady enough that Hinata can see the way his lips quirk, knows Kageyama is trying not to smile. Maybe he's just always been able to see more in Kageyama's face than other people, because he's never understood the surprised reactions Kageyama always gets, when people find out he dances ballet.

Hinata, they seem to get right away.

"What kind of dance?" people ask when Hinata tells them what he does.

He grins and proclaims, "I'm a b-boy!" and they nod and laugh, because yeah, it make sense. Hinata is always moving, can't stay still, and his style is the same—a little frenetic, with big movements that draw eyes to him despite his size (the hair helps, even if it's generally hidden under a beanie).

But Kageyama always gets a double take, a startled glance, a "You? A ballet dancer?" when he replies with his usual blunt gruffness and frown. So, okay, maybe Hinata kind of gets the reactions. But still.

He doesn't think he's ever seen anything more beautiful than the way Kageyama looks while he's dancing, as rigid control and straight lines become flowing arcs of movement, like fire, like water, like air—elemental in their simplicity. Some of the most complex movements the human body could perform rendered as easy as breathing in the time it takes him to cross a stage.

Even right now, under the fluorescent lights in the small practice room, wearing long, time faded dark tights and a loose black shirt, he's beautiful. Even more so than when he's folded into one of the fancy, glittering costumes they always put on him for the big, sold-out theater performances.

Hinata likes him best like this.

But he could be biased—because he likes it best when both of them are between tours and they can work on their own routines, their own fusion of classical and contemporary, old world meets old school, making up the rules as they go.

Hinata lends his flair and attitude to the port de bras, the carriage of the arms required of ballet, and the sharpness of his style is accentuated in the way the school of dance encourages the defying of gravity, his ability to fly.

And Kageyama flows through breaking in ways that make Hinata stop and envy, can drop from toprock to floor work and up into a 90 handstand so fluidly he's nearly a blur, but for the precise coordination and definition in each and every movement.

The absolute best times are when Kageyama is home long enough to take on teaching a class or two at their old studio. Hinata will slip in to watch, getting odd looks from some of the new students, slouched against the wall in his overlarge basketball shorts and undershirt, baseball hat backwards. But when they're mostly done for the day and Kageyama lets them cool off, he gets Hinata up at the front of the room so they can mess around for a bit. The looks on his students' faces when they find out Kageyama can twerk have _never once_ not been priceless.

But whether they're in front of a big audience, or a small audience, or no audience at all—dancing with Kageyama is always his favorite, no matter what kind of dance it is. Which is why it's a little past ten p.m. on a Wednesday, and they're still in the studio. Still dancing. 

Hinata's started to cool off by this point, so he says, again: "You've been twirling around for, like, seven minutes. You're totally dizzy, you just don't want to admit it."  

Kageyama is a whirlwind of dark hair and black fabric when he spins his way to a sudden halt and drops directly into the side splits in front of Hinata.

Not to be outdone, Hinata mimics him, legs a perfect "T", elbows resting on the floor, chin in his hands.

"You're annoying," Kageyama says, puffing his cheeks out to blow his dark hair out of his eyes.

Hinata grins. "You were showing off."

Kageyama leans forward, smooshes Hinata's cheeks between his hands, and kisses him aggressively all over his face, until Hinata is spluttering. Once he's off guard, Kageyama pushes his beanie off and slides his hands into his messy hair, kissing him one last time, long and lingering.

By the time he pulls away, Hinata is blinking slowly, dazed, and Kageyama is smirking.

"Dizzy, yet?" he asks.

Hinata kind of is, but mostly, he's fine. He has Kageyama for a focal point.

"Not even," he says, sticking his tongue out.

"Great," Kageyama tells him, planting a hand on top of Hinata's head to push himself into a standing position. "Get up, your positioning was terrible on that last one, we need to do it again."

"My positioning?" Hinata yelps. _"My_ positioning! Maybe my positioning was fine and _yours_ was the one that was off! You ever think about that?"

"No," Kageyama says, already striding across to the stereo to restart their song.

He ignores Hinata's incensed squawking to count them in, and when they dance, neither of them is out of position. They're perfectly in sync, like they were on the last one, and the one before that, and the hundred times before it.

But they'll keep dancing anyway. Maybe all night.

Because they love it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]


End file.
